Thawing
by bridit
Summary: MASSIVE spoilers for 4x11, an upcoming episode. Don't read if you don't want to be spoiled. Minor swearing.


You watch her talking to the psychiatrist, she stands rigid and nods her head once, twice…her hands move, she is pale, drained. Under the milky lights of the hallway, you know she's "the bitch" but it's both too late at night and too early in the morning for images and impressions, useless caricatures of House's game. Dr. Stone from psych wanders wearily away and Dr. Volakis turns to gaze into the mirror of the glassy walls of House's room. You see her gaze flicker to you in the glass; the world hazes for a moment, your eyes bleary, limbs heavy. Slowly you wander to her. The cup of coffee you stood half asleep_ half dead_ waiting against a vending machine for is placed in front of her, because though you're lips are stuck against your teeth, your dry mouth stinging from raw toothpaste lingering, you can't drink it. She looks at you with a tiny flickering smile at the ends of her lips she takes it. You both stare into the night drunk room before she clears her throat

"He paged me."

"I heard..." you want to say _Thank you_, but she'll just respond with "It's my job", _Good work _is so corny it makes you wince so you stay quiet

"I don't get it. If it was a suicide attempt, why would he page me?"

"He wouldn't. This," you rub your neck wishing it wasn't so, so completely fucked up, "this wasn't a suicide attempt." And even though you know this, House's aimlessly suicidal bouncing off of walls approach to life feels like suicide to you, but the difference is with suicidal people is they actually care. They want to die. This... "House wants answers, and this was a question he needed answered."  
"So this was all just a test? "  
Your phone rings softly against your hip and you don't answer her question. But as you leave with Cuddy's frustrated worry breathing in your ear you place a hand on her shoulder briefly and though it leaves you feeling crappy, you say what you wanted to say.  
"You did good. Thank you."  
She nods and her arms folded against her, finger tips holding delicately onto the top rim of the white foam cup, she stares into the room again as you walk away, here eyes looking for answers.

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"What do you think about Amber?" the question lingers in your brain for a bit as you stare at the gift you had in these test results, the miracle of life given to this guy who didn't want it. You think that she's witnessed a part of House that only the closest and strangers have seen, his heart stopped, his body lingering in death. You think she is going to be fired because she's too close to be a stranger anymore.

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You're doing rounds, you see bets being collected and you know that the final round has come. "Only one person" you catch on your way pass the nurses station and you're so mad at the entire hospital at that moment. Because everyone is in on House's game and you're still mad at him for that stupid prank he pulled. You pass House's patient's room and look in on the guy, only to find

"Dr. Volakis" she's facing the window but you see her reflection printed against the city lights and she says nothing till

"Collected your bets?"

"I didn't make any" she laughs

"Why, too noble to 'play games'?"

"You know as well as I do, House is unpredictable at the best of times." She looks down to press the tears off her cheeks with her hands. You see the patient's eyes flickering between you two, and smiling at you like he knows a secret. You wonder why she's here, in the room with the guy that uses his talent to create irritation and alienation, just for a point. You peruse his chart

"Measles?"

"Yeah," she turns and comes over to stand next to you at his bedside, "works with young kids at an orphanage for abandoned children." She smirks as she watches your eyebrows rise as your eyes flicker to the patient

"What?" he shoots at you

"Nothing. It's just a pity that no good dead goes unpunished."

"Yeah well…" he trails off, and you look to Volakis

"Same goes for you, huh?" she starts, not expecting that and her eyes are a little wide, "You saved his life, this is your punishment."

You watch her pull the hat from off her head, little blond hairs stand up and try to cling to the fabric as she pulls it away. You think for a moment, it might've been good to have her stay. She's staring at the patient, thinking, and you take your leave only to hear your name called out as you walk back to your office

"Dr Wilson!" you turn and she stops her jog and walks the rest of the way to you, "I never paid you back for that coffee."

You start to murmur, "What? Oh, no that's fine-" when you see her stiff way she's holding herself and the tinniest rose colour to her cheeks, then you realise you're an idiot.

"Why don't we get it now?"

"Sure," she smiles, "I think one last terrible coffee from the cafeteria won't be enough to kill me."

"Hey," you smile back, "it might even make you glad you don't have to work here."

You both walk to the cafeteria; she's quiet and so are you. But its okay, it's good. It's enough to have someone beside you.


End file.
